On her own
by Dona-Vngaz
Summary: They always told her that she was living in the wrong century. Maybe they were right... The story of a young lady that knows their tragic future but can not do anything to change it.
1. Prologue: Introduction of a lonely soul

**A/N: **Hello, so this is my first les miz fan fic, I'm so nervous 'cause this is a piece that is so personal to me, I really put myself in this words, I hope not to bother you with this so much. Thanks to a beautiful person called Beatriz I'm here writing you this and having the courage to take risks, this is dedicated to her, because she is an amazing writer and true friend. Sorry if I have grammatical mistakes but English is not my native language (it's Spanish, by the way). I hope you enjoy it from the beginning to the end. And of course I have a little obsession with Les Miserables, a beautiful musical that I really love. Thanks for taking the time to read it. I hope you read it ´till the end.

Prologue- The introduction of a lonely soul.

She was alone. Alone in life, alone in everything.

Her life was reigned by loneliness. She was one of those people that you would see in the street and feel pity for. Always walking with her head down, looking at the floor since she was a little kid, with bad posture and an emotionless expression on her face, imagining a life of fantasy that could never be and sometimes smiling at a sudden memory of a moment far from her reality. If she has the misfortune of walking in a street full of people, unconsidered people who are late to work or think that the entire world revolves around them will probably hit her. Then, the victim of this particular act of selfishness, assuming the fault will whisper, ''I'm sorry,'' receiving a glare containing no interest or morals, will continue to her destination, a little hesitant but trying to look secure and focus on her task, fearing from the deepest parts of her soul that someone could see her insecurity: a characteristic of hers.

Indeed she was an interesting character. With brown curls that shined in the sun that fell in waves upon her shoulders and kept falling a little bit, always messy and out of place. She has an obsession with her hair, she looks herself at the mirror, that distorted thing that could reflect all her complexes in one look, and then she would try anything to make them be okay. After a long time she would look in the mirror again and say that it's worst, or if she were lucky she would say that it's not that bad - she alone could destroy herself. She has a fringe that covers her forehead and sometimes when she hasn't had the time to go to the haircut, the fringe almost covers her eyes, helping her hide from the people around her.

They say that the eyes are the doors to the soul, well, then, in this case this statement applies. Her brown eyes are small with dark circles because she prefers stay awake when she is meant to be sleeping. If you look at them directly you will see one thing: evasion. Little eyelashes adorn them, (to her disgrace) in a minimalistic sense. You'll hardly see them spill tears; for her it's like opening up to someone: too risky, too dangerous. One advantage of their size is that she can fake or hide her true feelings. Be prepared for a cautious person.

Her lips were chapped and dry thanks to the lack of water, that she has never had the habit of drinking. They are sometimes almost red, without the need of makeup, caused by her biting them when she is nervous or anxious; on occasions she has made them bleed. But most of the time they are pink, making her seem younger. These lips hide a beautiful smile that a small number of people have seen, that smile that can illuminate your day or make you feel better in days when everything seems dark. She has different smiles. The fake smiles are the ones that she uses most of the time, they are not special and don't seem to fit in her face. And the genuine smiles are unique and you won't forget. Those smiles are reserved.

Her body is not a subject that we can touch with a big easiness. Still I'll tell you the most important aspects:

Her skin is almost white on her beautiful and long neck, because the clothes she wears doesn't show her rough and irregular skin. She doesn't care for her skin, she doesn't care for her.

She has curves, a waist that you can see with a quick, simple look, and her chest still doesn't have the volume that she wants, yet she ignores peoples' words about how she is still a girl and that she has to be patient, something that she is not.

Her abdomen is not flat. She is not fat, she is not thin. She needs to stop eating unhealthy food, but she can't. The reason? Anxiety. She is too lazy to exercise. Despite continuous promises to herself that she will, she fails.

Her fingers are self-mutilated with very short, destroyed nails. But when she dances, she moves those hands so softly that it's almost as if they where made of crystal. They are beautiful in their own way.

In school, she is the one that is always alone at lunch, and when the teacher says, ''make teams,'' she shivers because she knows that she will be sitting in her chair and waiting for the teams to be made, then one of her classmates will have to pick her because he needs another person and she is the only one alone. She is a dedicated student- you could say that she is intelligent, and the lack of social life at this temple of knowledge makes her focus more on books and notebooks. She respects all her teachers and classmates even if they annoy her with their immature behavior, and don't respect her (something that she is really used to) because since she was a girl they taught her that ''you have to treat the others like you want to be treated'', unfortunately the others don't think the same. She is the strange type that doesn't enjoy shopping, or gossiping, or listening to the latest pop music, or going to parties, so she learned to be on her own since she was little. The people never gave her a chance to show them how she was above that neglected appearance and stony expression. First appearances can be deceitful.

Her favorite subject is history. For being more precise: History of the XIX century.

The library is one of her favorite places: silent, comfortable, and peaceful. The smell of books and the bookshelves that decorate the walls of this magical place are beautiful, almost unreal. Time seems to stop and her imagination is left to wander. She loves to read, classical books are her favorite ones, but she can read all of them, except scientific ones, she can't stand the science with scientific and confusing terms, only when they explain it properly she pays attention. The romantic novels are fantastic when they are realistic and tragic. The books are truly her best friends.

She has never been loved. She always has an unrequited love. Nobody ever has told her that they love her. She falls for a person only because he is a true gentleman and is nice and sweet to her, something that not all the people are. But when she falls in love it's difficult to get over him. In all her life without love, she has loved 7 people, none having returned the sentiments. Still, she is a romantic person, and very dramatic, making the easiest things a complicated problem. Her hopes are almost dead.

Her parents are a subject that can wait for another chapter; she has a mother who suffers from depression and a father with a bad temper. This family is broken and has no communication, something that makes her feel lonelier.

She has no brothers or sisters, she is an only child, making her shy and introverted. But remember that most of the time, the shy people are the ones who listen better, like her. And even if their life is a mess, she always advises you and worries about you, even if no one worries about her. She is a good friend that can keep secrets, fulfill her promises, and support you. She would do anything for you and makes witty comments. Makes you have a fun time and is always there, helping you in any way she can.

She has a good memory that for so many people would be awesome, but for her it's not. She remembers all her mistakes and repeats them almost automatically, she feels that she does everything wrong and that she is useless. And when she really likes something she quickly becomes obsessed with that, and talks of that every time that she has the opportunity. People grow tired of that, but she doesn't.

The only one that knew her was the paper; all her thoughts were there, leaving her soul there and only there, the words beautifully written to make the most daily thing into something that could be a story. Her means to express her were the arts. She had a passion for literature, ballet, opera, music and theater, in fact her dream was becoming a writer, and an actress of musical theater that were hobbies for many people including her old friends that told her as a kid that they were going to become actors or musicians or dancers and nowadays you can see them in an office, having a common and very stressful job. She wasn't one of those people that quit when something becomes hard, she did once and she was very sorry, it was never going to happen again, she promised to herself.

Her life is the arts, and without them she just couldn't live.

Her days were full of problems, and at the end of the day she would be in bed with a restless mind, imagining a dream life with no problems, or her mistakes repeating and repeating again to the point of making her believe that she was useless or stupid. If that wasn't the case, she would imagine herself with the one that she loved, with her luck that person would never see her, but in her fantasies he would make time time to speak with her and he would see her true self, and in time they would fall in love. Then she would give up and rest.

A detail that I should had mentioned a time ago. Her name? Donna.

**A/N: **For the ones who made it ´till the end, congratulations! I really hope you liked it, you can give me any kind of criticism, I take it very personal but it works to improve my writing. You can review and follow and favorite it. Feel free to send me a PM cause I'm glad of answer questions or make big talks about Les Mis. Thank you so much. Even if I don't know you, have a good day, hugs and kisses.

*Thanks to my beautiful new beta: love-never-dies-90 :DDD I love you :DD

Atte: An amateur and complicated writer called Dona.


	2. Chapter 1: At the start of the day

**A/N: **Bonjour beautiful people of fanfiction (: here I am bringing you another chapter, it's not what I planned, but the chapter turned endless and I didn't want that, so… this is a filler chapter, just to know more about the character and little details. But be prepared because the next chapter it's a lots of angst, and it's very important for the story. Thank you to my beautiful friend and beta love-never-dies-90 because without her I wouldn't be here, she needs a lot more of recognition ;) I hope you enjoy every word, because as I told you I put myself in there. And keep calm, the barricade boys will be here soon. If you liked it recommend it to your friends and followers and if you don't then to your enemies ;) r/r? and I hope isn't too bad, well I won't bore you here…

**Disclaimer (that I forgot last chapter, sorry): **I own a copy of the 25th anniversary concert of Les Miserables, does that count?.

* * *

Chapter 1: At the start of the day.

January 7th, present day.

It was a cold and rainy day, something very usual in winter, one of her favorite seasons. That day you could smell the humidity in the atmosphere just by opening the window. Just the way she loves it.

She woke up silently, not wanting to leave the bed. Her body was shattered due to the used mattress and the very long rehearsals. She was supposed to be on vacation, but theater never rests.

She opened the door without energy, and made an annoyed gesture when she heard 2 voices fighting in the dining room. She wasn't surprised, but starting the day with another fight was depressing. Before exiting her room in complete silence she looked at the window, noticing that it was a cloudy day. She smiled.

The conversation between the familiar voices ended when she heard a door close violently. Her father was gone. So she decided to eat something for breakfast. On her way to the kitchen she saw her mother. Her mother wasn't in a good mood, and her face reflected that. As always her mother's face had a hint of disgust, not only addressed to her daughter but to life.

"Good morning mother," said Donna, with a lazy tone in her voice. It was wiser to not provoke her mother.

''Good morning," answered her mother with an exhausted tone. She was exhausted. Exhausted of life.

Her mother sat at the beige sofa, took the TV remote and started changing the channels absently, complaining how there was nothing good on TV. Her daughter sighed and walked into the kitchen. For breakfast she ate cereal and milk, with a little sugar. An apathetic silence filled the apartment; it was better that way.

Today she decided that this day was going to be different, she would not be in her house all day doing nothing, or just watching TV, or in the internet. Because that's what she had done all vacation. But she was tired, tired of being with her family all the time. Today was for herself. She smiled when she felt the confidence and courage to go out. The idleness was defeated.

''Today I'm going out, mom," said her daughter, with a moderate enthusiasm, but still with a smile. Her smile faded when she saw the reaction of her mother.

''Where, and with who?" asked her mother with a challenging tone.

''To buy books or something…alone,''.-answered Donna with a voice squeezed from all enthusiasm. Her mother couldn't admit that her daughter had no friends, but Donna thought it was too personal to tell her mother. She had no confidence in her mom.

''With a friend it's acceptable, but alone? No way," said her mother. Donna expected that, but now she had a plan.

''Well, then I'll ask permission to father, you know that he always lets me go," it was a threat. Today wasn't about excuses or pretexts, today it was going to be different, and she had no idea.

''Fine, do whatever you want," said her mother giving up. She always got her way; her daughter would obey her in everything she wanted. But not now, not today.

Donna called her father, her father wanting her to be independent agreed. It would be the principal cause of her parents' fight that night. A triumphant smile adorned her face. Finally, a day to herself.

* * *

She took a hot shower, to feel the water wipe away all her problems and worries. She confronted her worst enemy: the mirror. She put a black shirt with V-neck and a sweater with turtleneck; she had to protect her throat. It wasn't the right day to get sick. Following the shirt were tight jeans that enhanced the beautiful figure of her legs and light brown boots. Her hair was manageable, something very surprising due the fact that with wet weather her hair tends to become impossible to comb. She noticed that there wasn't any need of ironing her fringe, because she had ironed it too many times and it ended up straight. She smiled. She put a little of mascara and looked herself in the mirror one more time, she didn't feel beautiful but she felt prettier.

She took a brown medium size bag and put her cellphone, her keys, and a notebook with a pen, her earphones and her wallet inside.

She put her bag upon her left shoulder and went to see her mother one last time before going.

''Goodbye mother, see you tonight," said Donna with a fake smile, her mother looked disgusted for having to leave her daughter alone or because she wasn't going with her. To be honest her mother's company wasn't the most beautiful thing, in fact it was quite annoying, of course she'll never tell her, she could break her heart.

''Take care, don't talk to strangers, if something suspicious happens call me or your father, come home early and remember that I love you," advised her paranoiac mother.

''Yes mom, I'm not a kid anymore, I can take care of myself," answered Donna in an annoyed tone.

''Ok, see you soon, I love you," said her mother while kissing Donna's cheek.

''Love you too," answered her daughter. And then she exited the apartment, as if she were exiting a prison.

She took her time, walking slowly, and directed her steps to the subway near her home.

While she was waiting to arrive at her stop, she was daydreaming.

* * *

2 months ago she auditioned for a low budget production of Les Miserables. Surprisingly she was chosen to be her dream role: Éponine.

Ironically, her unrequited love, Christos was Marius in this same production. He was a beautiful dancer, a magnificent actor and a great singer. Had black curls, brown big eyes and a simple but warm smile. She met him at a musical production for children; he was a dancer, just like her. At first she saw him as another dancer, but a change of places in a choreography made her see him. Admiration was the first feeling that she felt towards him. And then she started to talk and talk to him before and after musical numbers, she fell in love.

At the thought of seeing him that day, she smiled automatically, without even noticing it, then she saw the passengers of the subway car, they were in their own world too, without expression, or couples kissing hungrily, or kids crying to their mothers because they didn't want to go. Maybe what she enjoyed most of being in a subway was seeing the people, analyzing them, their faces, and their corporal language or even the activities that they were doing along the way to their destination.

Then she arrived at her stop, and took her bag cautiously, checking her sides to make sure that she hadn't forgotten something, and went to the doors, there were many people, so the moment they opened everyone started to push her, they were selfish as they hurried. She was thrown to the pavement; she checked over her bag and took it with more force, fearing that someone in the crowd could easily steal it.

She walked the familiar streets, then, she arrived at one of the dearest places to her in the world: a bookshop. When she saw the sign of the shop she hastened her steps and smiled. The owner of the shop was one of the nicest people that you could ever meet. She spent most of her free time there. She would search hours for peculiar books, and then the owner would sit with her on the sidewalk with a coffee and tell her stories of his youth. This owner had the bookshop for fun, enjoying every second with his books and old friends; with just one smile he could lighten her day.

''Hi, sir," Donna said happily. In the moment he laid his eyes upon her, he smiled, like a grandfather that sees his favorite granddaughter; in fact that was what he was for her, like a grandfather. He came to her and greeted her with a tender kiss on her cheek and a shake of hands.

''Hello, it's been a long time since you came here, young lady," he said with a very sweet smile, he started to have an affection towards her, so he missed her.

''Yes, well… you know, my family…" she said with genuine sadness, only the memory could change her frame of mind. She started to play with her hair and play with her fingers. He nodded at this statement, she had told him about her dysfunctional family.

''Come in! It's cold outside. I don't want you to get sick," he said pushing her through the entrance of the shop. It was freezing and it would probably rain soon.

''Thank you Mr. James, I'm going to buy some books today, I've been reading the ones that I bought last week and I finished them," said Donna, excited. When at home, one of the things that she did most was read. And of course she felt proud in front of this cultured man.

''Make yourself comfortable, I'll be in the back," he said with a smile that made her feel that he was hiding something, but decided to focus on finding more books.

''Thank you Mr. James," she said a little distracted, there were many interesting books. Piles and piles of books with a story, some were very old, with dust and a little yellowish.

She heard something very heavy falling; the noise was coming from the back store. She got worried.

''Are you alright Mr. James?" She shouted with a worried tone, he was old for some tasks, still he kept doing them, even if she was insisting in helping him, he was a proud man.

''Yes, I'm fine, don't worry," he said, for the tone of his voice it seems that he was carrying something heavy. ''Come here Donna, I want to give you something," he said. She felt her stomach become knots, what was he going to give her?

'' Coming, sir," she said with both of her hands full of books.

''Since you came the first time you asked for a specific book, and some days ago I finally found it, and I remembered you immediately, of how your eyes shined when you were talking about that book, your big smile so I decided to give it to you," he said giving her one of the fattest books that she had seen in her short life. On the cover of the book you could read: Les Miserables.

''Oh my…. The complete version of Les Miserables! Oh thank you Mr. James, words aren't enough!" squealed Donna with a genuine happiness. She hugged him, and with that the other books fell to the floor. She didn't care. ''Thank you, thank you, I'm so grateful, thank you.''

She took the book from his wrinkled hands and touched the cover; it had dust and beautiful golden lyrics in it. Then she put her feet on Earth. She picked up the books scattered on the wood floor.

''So, what I owe you sir?" Donna almost whispered.

''Nothing, it's a present," he said kindly. She opened her mouth to say something, nothing came out. She was too astonished.

''Nothing? No, it can't be. It's too much for me, I just don't deserve it," she said giving the book back to his hands yet he didn't take it. Maybe this was very expensive, and what would he win? Nothing. At the end of the day it was still a business, he had to made money in one or another way.

''No, take it. I insist," he said impatiently.

''Thank you so much Mr. James," squealed Donna. She hugged him and gave him a little kiss on the cheek, she was grateful to him. She took her cellphone out of her tight jeans' pocket. In her purple cellphone you could read: 3:45pm. She shuddered; the time goes flying when you have fun. ''I think I should be going, thank you, really, you made me the happiest girl on Earth," Donna said excitedly, but at the same time hurriedly. She had to go to eat something, then head home and go to rehearsal; she had a lot of activities to do today.

* * *

She went to the nearest coffee shop, she ordered a cappuccino and a sandwich, and ran to an available couch, it was a brown, leather sofa, with green pillows. She left her bag on the couch and took out her big beautiful new book. The waitress came to her table; she was reading, absent to the real world, trapped by the lovely words of Victor Hugo and didn't feel her presence. She didn't even notice that it was raining.

''Miss, here is your cappuccino and your Italian sandwich," said the waitress with a fake smile, in her eyes it seemed that she wasn't comfortable with her job, but it was the only thing she could work on now. The sad reality was that not everyone could work with what they wanted,.

''Thank you," said Donna with a kind and respectful tone, she wanted this person to have a better day, and maybe just with a smile and a good treatment the things could change.

The waitress seemed surprised by these manners and smiled genuinely, she would probably tell her friends about how for the first time a client was respectful of her.

Without taking her eyes away from the yellowish pages she drank and ate only using her left hand. When the plate and the cup were empty she kept reading. She was a prisoner, a prisoner of 19th century Paris. Then her phone rang, taking her away of the world that Victor had created. It was a message of an old friend, but that was not the important thing, she saw the time: 5:37pm.

''Damn it!'' she whispered. The rehearsal was at 7:00pm and she needed to go home first. She hurriedly took her bag and her book, paid for the lunch and went running to the subway, with the pavement wet and an uncertain future.

* * *

*For the guest that I can't answer in a PM, I don't know how to react, for me it would be a gratification to know that the few ones that read this feel the emotion that I want to transmit that I feel too when I'm writing, but I'm sad just because your life is like that, I can understand you, and if you want someone to talk to feel free to speak with me, maybe I can be helpful (:


	3. Chapter 2: A little fall

**A/N: **Bonjour readers. So… for me it was a really hard job to made this chapter, for giving you an idea I cried while I was writing this chapter, and it took me 3 days to finally finish it. I was going to wait for my beta to correct it before I update it but you'll see the 2nd October was commemorated the Tlatelolco's massacre, so if you want to you can search it in Google, and that date reminded me a lot of the barricade boys, so I want to commemorate that important date by my way, so I dedicate this story to these students. The situations that appear in this chapter are real, it's just that didn't happen in a production of Les Mis (sadly) but it's a suuuper long story. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do, and that I can transport my emotions to you through my writing. Thank you a lot for being so nice to me. R/R? Please?. Just leave me a comment about how did you feel or what do you want me to add to the next chapter (: Thank you for your patience and your time. This chapter is long for making up for you. Have a great day.

**Disclaimer:** I wish I own something of this beautiful masterpiece but it's still of Victor Hugo. Thanks God.

* * *

Chapter 2- A little fall.

Still January 7th, present day.

Now that she was in a big hurry, everyone around her seem slower. She had to push everybody at the subway, just to be in time for her rehearsal. Fortunately the subway didn't make her wait, she even had a sit, and it was cold. She shivered. Seeing the people in her surrounds wasn't something appropriate in this situation, so she laid her eyes in the window. The loud noises of the vendors, bored conversations and cries of one boy made her head ache; she took out of the bag her tangled headphones and connected them to her cellphone, she put almost automatically ''On my own'' from Les Miserables; then the world disappeared for a while. The interpretation of the artist and the song itself made Donna feel lonelier…

The scheduled voice that says the coming station a minute before the subway arrives at that stop threw her away from her fantasies. She took her flattened bag and hung it on her shoulder hurriedly. She couldn't miss her stop, and unfortunately she did. Why? Why she had the worst of the lucks? The life was mocking her, and it did it very well.

She exited the subway at the next stop and ran to her home. She had a few slips way home due to the wet pavements. Her hands were shaking, the keys slipping through her fingers; she tried desperately to open the door without success, but after 9 times of trying the heavy and black door opened. She walked upstairs to her apartment on the 1st floor. Donna opened this wooden door at the second time.

''Mother?''.- shouted Donna, her powerful voice made a big echo through the entire apartment. No answer. She probably would be out with Donna's dog, being the opposite person from her house; her mother's friends just couldn't stop saying how wonderful her mother was; if they really knew her…

She sighed, and enjoyed a brief period of time the total silence. No fights, nor angry shouts, just silence, pure and beautiful silence that she loved and that wasn't usual in her family to keep. She was one with the silence…

_C'mon Donna, you have to hurry up. _She walked with a determinate pace, straight to her room. The door was half open so she lost time pushing it. Her room was a disaster, just like her. She had a bed covered with clothes, the wooden floor too. Her bedhead was a bookshelf with a lot of books disordered, all from different colors, some new, some old, some were mistreated, but each one told a story, but not only the story that it's written, but also the story while Donna was reading it. She didn't have a lot of books, and one shelf was full of notebooks, some were empty, but there were notebooks full of stories of her life, as you know her passion was writing too. She walked through the medium size room to her desk. It was full of papers, some home works, and school works. In the middle was her black laptop, on her right a beautiful decorated glass with pencils, pens, and colors, with no order in particular. A beautiful purple bottle of perfume that she only used in special occasions, and next to that her cosmetic case that was full of makeup that in her daily life she didn't wear, just in theater. She took it and put it in her brown bag. Between all the papers she found her scores of Les Miserables, she took them too. To the left it was a beautiful oil lamp that she found in an antique shop, she loved that historical and used objects. A few notebooks and ceramic ballerinas that were a gift from her distant family. And little objects that personalized her desk. She managed to go to her closet; she took a comb, styling cream, hairspray and deodorant. Every movement was short and agile. In minutes she made everything that in a common day she would do in minimum 1 hour; still her heart rate was quicker than usual. She ran to the subway again, not daring to look at her cellphone, and notice what time was.

* * *

She arrived at her station, not interested in watching people. The theater was only 2 blocks away so she did her best to go faster but without falling. The theater wasn't too big, but not too small. She arrived with a troubled breathing, a few drops of sweat and a big fear of not being in time. She stopped at the entry of the stage, trying to recover her breath. Everyone in the seats turned at her, everyone hushed except for the murmurs that probably weren't anything good for her and disinterest. Then she saw Christos, his big brown eyes upon her, his warm smile, and his positive attitude irradiating through the theater. She forgot everything else, smiled genuinely leaved her heavy bag in one empty seat and slowly started to greet everyone at the theater. Hypocrite smiles were thrown to her from the girls. Still she did her conventional task with kindness and education, besides what did she have to lose?. Inside her she was hurt, what did she do wrong?, They weren't her worst enemies but they were not friends, she didn't belong somewhere, as always.

She searched the director, but he wasn't there. She took her cellphone out of her pocket, it was 6:43pm, she sighed relieved, she wasn't late, after all. The tension in her body ended.

Then she saw Christos' friends talking with him animatedly. A real coincidence that his friends were the barricade boys. She approached them, her heart started to rise, all the efforts that took to calm down were in vain. Her stomach was a knot, and she couldn't hold a smile. She greeted every barricade boy of the production, leaving Christos till the end. She felt a pressure in her stomach, probably because of the closeness. She put gently one hand upon his shoulder to receive his attention.

''Hi, how are you?''.- said Donna shyly but at the same time trying to sound casual, pretending that was the normal conventionalism. When she met his eyes, she lost completely in them. The joy could be perceived in her voice, her eyes shining with affection.

''Hi Donna, I'm fine, thank you, and you?''.- answered Christos casually. His beautiful smile making her forget everything and feel secure. Her smile grew more.

''Fine thank you.''.- and after saying him that, she lost half of his attention after he nodded to her answer, she needed to recover that attention. _Tell him something Donna; don't stay there like a fool. _She tapped his shoulder with two fingers, the movement was almost imperceptible, but not to him. '' I like the way you get done your hair today. You should comb it like that more often.''

''Thanks Donna, but I don't think so. I prefer it disheveled''.- he said laughing a little. He thought she was teasing him?... He stared at her a few seconds with a friendly smile all over his face, her shyly smile became bigger. And she giggled a little at his simplicity.

''Well I should probably go to my seat, see you later''.- she replied after minutes of uncomfortable silence between both, and he drove his attention again to his friends. He could be a polite man and when she was speaking to him he would bring her all his attention that made her feel special and important, still he was a distracted man at times, principally when he was with his friends.

''See you later Donna''.- he answered, with a positivism in his voice. She saw him one last time and went to her seat, slowly; sometimes smiling, sometimes with sadness in her eyes. He continued his conversation with the barricade boys.

''Little he knows…. Little he sees''.- she murmured under her breath.

* * *

The director entered. Everyone kept silence, when they heard his shoes approaching the stage. ''Good afternoon company, who is missing?''.- asked the director.

''Lara''.- replied almost all the company in unison. She was the actress playing Cosette.

''Ok, we'll start without her''.- sighed frustrated the director. He was delicate with the subject of the tardiness, no one could arrive late. Donna waited for the punishment applied to Cosette that never came.

''Sorry''.- said an agitated Lara.

''Ok, well today it's an important day because it's the first day that we are rehearsing with costumes and scenography.''.- said the director. Everyone clapped and cheered him. Donna felt nervous. ''So… go to your dressing room and prepare, we start in an hour. Break a leg guys''.

''Thanks''.- they chorused. And everyone started to go to their respective dressing rooms. Because the theater wasn't the most luxurious there were just 2 dressing rooms: one for the men and one for the women.

Donna took her bag and went to the dressing room that was full of people. You could see the actress playing Fantine, Madame Thenardier, Cosette, and all the extras. She dropped her bag in a tiny place of the big dressing table, with big mirrors, and the mirrors encircled in bulbs, some shining and some broken. The part of the mirror where she put her things was broken too. She didn't complain.

She went to the long clothes hanger and searched her Éponine costume, she found it faster just because she knew very well the character, and the first thing that called her attention was the characteristic hat that now was hers.

Lara started to curl her hair, because the producer didn't have enough money to buy all the wigs that were needed for the musical. She was beautiful indeed. With her big green eyes, her petite form and her silky light brown hair, that fell like a cascade. And of course, a charming personality. Everything needn't too much effort for her, everything was solved. How could Christos love her having Lara?. Donna feared the answer.

* * *

She started to put makeup, she was going to be on stage at the end of the first act but still she wanted to be prepared before, just to be sure, and because she wanted to see Christos before starting ''Look down'', although she knew that on stage and off stage it was going to be the same. She put everything making it seem natural, just the basics. Then she saw Lara still curling her hair, and then she saw her reflection. She made a grin of disapproval to her own image in the mirror. She would never be as beautiful as Lara. Never.

After a while one girl put music on the phone. It wasn't the kind of music that Donna would like but it was better that the silence, that uncomfortable silence. She took her brush and applied some black eye shadow all over her arms, face chest and legs. After that Donna tousled her hair, which was an easy task due that her curls were disheveled even if it wasn't intentional. Because she had some free time she took out her beautiful book, and opened it in the chapter ''A rose in misery''.

A series of melodic giggles filled the silence in the dressing room. They were from Lara.

''Guess what?''.- she asked to no one in particular, but at least the half of the women wanted to know, most of them replied with a ''What?''. Donna was still holding the book, but now her attention wasn't on her book but in the words of Lara. Still she pretended that she was reading and that she couldn't care less. ''Today without reason he hugged me. He just saw me and came to hug me. Isn't that adorable?. I think he likes me''.- told Lara smiling brightly and at times a set of giggles escaped through her pink and full lips. Donna almost dropped the book, her hands were trembling. She breathed deeply, trying uselessly to calm down. Her chest began to hurt, and it was hard to breath. She needed air.

She saw that the extras were in their costumes, equally Cosette and Eponine girls, Fantine and Mme. Thenardier. A big deep voice of the stage manager announced the first call. She took he costume, undressed and dressed with Eponine's clothes. Her shirt, skirt, boots, and her belt. Finally she slowly put her hat.

Second call. So she walked downstairs to the stage, just like all the other women in the dressing room. She desperately breathed. She searched for Christos, and surprisingly he wasn't there. She wished luck to all her mates. Everyone went to their places and the show started. With the corner of her eye she saw Lara walking upstairs to her dressing room. She went to sit to a metal staircase. The cold sent a shiver through her spine. She started to boycott herself.

_Do you really thought that Christos would see you?. You are such a fool. He has Lara, and she is the ideal girl, and you are just a hopeless girl. He will never see you. No one will._

* * *

Her head was in her knees, curled like a ball. Sitting there in the staircase, someone passing near her would pity her. She forgot her surroundings, and entered her merciless mind. She stayed like this like a half of hour. She didn't even feel a presence just to her side.

''Are you alright?''.- asked the mysterious voice that was too familiar to her. With that voice she broke out of her trance. She looked up. It was Christos, with a worried expression in his face. In the moment she met his gaze her heart beat faster and she felt a peculiar pressure in her stomach.

She made a half fake smile and nodded without conviction. She was tired, tired of faking. After nodding, she looked down again, her smile faded.

''Sure?''.- he tried to make her talk. He was not convinced at all.

''Yeah…''.- answered Donna. Again trying to deceive him, he wasn't that easy to trick. His expression was serious. His brown eyes upon her, seeing directly to hers. He wanted answers, real answers. And he wasn't going until she gave them to him. She sighed. Donna would never tell him her feelings towards him, so she thought of something.

''Well. I'm very nervous, I don't think I can do it…''.- almost whispered Donna, this was true, she was nervous, and she didn't trust in her.

''Donna, listen to me. You are going to do it great. There is a reason why you are here, right?. Just trust in you.''.- he said with a serious and soft voice, if that could be possible. He inspired confidence. She stayed without expression, no words were needed. She slowly stood up, her eyes locked in his. She was mere centimeters from him. What to do, what to say?... Nothing. Her heart beat too loud and fast that she feared he could listen to it. She didn't think it, and hugged him. Donna leaned her head upon his shoulder. He put his arms around her too, and caressed a little her back. They were just both, no one in the world but this two. For her, the most intimate hug in her whole life. Her eyes started watering, but she didn't cry. After minutes she undid the hug, because she thought it could have been awkward for him and because she didn't even know in what part of the musical they were.

''Just enjoy it Donna, okay?''.- said Christos after finished the hug. She nodded, with a little and shy smile. ''C'mon Donna, it's almost our turn''. She needed to be at the other side of the stage.

''We talk later, right?''.- she said, not wanting to be apart from him.

''Yes, see you in Paris''.- joked the Marius of her life. She just giggled a little.

''See you in Paris then''.

* * *

When she stepped the stage, everything was perfect. During the whole ''The Robbery'' she didn't fake, she was living it, living every second. Joy, illusion and hurt after he saw Cosette, with those lovingly eyes that never had seen her. He was indeed a good actor but still she thought that he really loved Cosette/Lara. Her whole life was this musical, this situation, this life. She was one with the music, one with the scenes. The words sang from her heart. She wasn't acting Éponine. She was Éponine.

She climbed the barricade before ''Éponine's Errand'' and heard a noise, a crack, coming from the structure. Even without the barricade she felt fear, now with that simple noise she was paranoiac, she blame herself for all the weight that the structure was bearing. This was the first time that she was rehearsing with this barricade, so maybe she made something wrong, it wasn't too safe the material of it but still. She tried to forget it.

She lived the fake hopes, the heartbreaking part of Marius telling her to find the house of Cosette. Every little detail was there, the sensations, the feelings, all in that precise moment.

* * *

Her voice almost broke in ''A heart full of love''. She was suffering. Lara was beautiful, and charming, and tender, she was all that Donna could never be… And then in ''One day more'' she was always beside him, just like in a real common day. Meaning the words, coming from her inside. After that the intermediate. She ran upstairs to the dressing room and chance to the boy´s clothes. She made it fast just to see Christos before entering again the stage, and not being able to talk to him.

She was going to the other side of the stage, when in the middle she heard the soprano voice of Lara. And then a gentle male voice, very familiar, it was from Christos. When she heard it, she stopped dead in her tracks. They were smiling, seeing the other like if they knew each other since forever. It hurt. So she stayed at the dark side of the stage, where no one could see her. Lara went to the dressing room and Donna started to hide her hair in the hat. Her eyes watering. She walked to her place, looking to the floor, going unnoticed by almost everyone.

''Donna! You see? It wasn't needed to be nervous, you did great''.- he said animatedly to her, smiling. She blushed, but didn't believe him.

''Thank you, you did an splendid job too''.- she congratulated, giving him a quick hug. Electricity ran throw her. '' But I'm still nervous, you know?, because the solo part…''.- said Donna with a lowest voice.

''Don't be, everything will be fine''.- and he walked away, she did the same, with a half-smile and a stomach still made knot.

It was the first name she was going to sing ''On my own'' on a stage and in front of the entire company. She couldn't fail.

* * *

She delivered the letter to Jean Valjean, he gave her francs, that were useless in France now. She breathed heavily and walked to the center of the stage hearing the first notes of her solo. She hit all the notes perfectly, her harsh and powerful voice echoing throughout the stage. She living at the moment. Her mezzosoprano voice singing perfectly the words that were coming from her heart. At the end of the note ''known'', that was the most difficult her voice quivered. Her voice trembling in ''I love him''. She felt tears in her eyes. And she finished ''but only on my own…'', with a trembling voice. She heard distant applauses.

She ran to the curtains. She found Christos applauding her. She smiled still with tears in her eyes.

''Congratulations Donna''.- he said hurriedly, because he needed to enter stage.

''Thank you''.- she answered lovingly, taking off the tears from her eyes.

Faster than anything Donna took off her coat and shirt, in front of everyone, (who would care by now?). And dressed with the shirt drenched in blood that was hanging in a perch. Then put again the coat and hide her hair again. She had fear of climbing again the barricade, but she couldn't have fear, she ran to it and started to climb it, careful and at the same time fearful.

''There is a boy climbing the barricade!''.

Donna crouched and heard another crack, just louder than the last one. And then the wooden platform where she was broke.

Everything went too fast. She fell to the floor, her head being the first thing to hit it. Falling mere inches from Christos. All began to blur, the faces of the barricade boys weren't visible, and their voices seem distant and slower, like if everything was now in slow motion. And in matter of seconds everything turned to blackness.


End file.
